


I Can Hear Your Name (But In Dreams)

by AngelQueen



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Obi-Wan's life on Tatooine was not entirely made of suffering, Satine wouldn't have it, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 09:52:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8573740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelQueen/pseuds/AngelQueen
Summary: Obi-Wan dreams all throughout his years on Tatooine.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilyconrad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyconrad/gifts).



Obi-Wan dreams all throughout his years on Tatooine. They are seldom good ones. 

He dreams of the clones, of Cody, the men he grew to care for as brothers, the men he had been determined to see gain the rights and privileges of all sentient beings. He dreams of Cody’s amused smirk as he hands him his lightsaber that last time on Utapau.

He dreams of the canon blast, of Boga’s death scream as they fell, fell, fell, hitting the water below. He dreams of his men hunting him like a animal.

He dreams of the Temple, usually so filled with life, but now home only to death and suffering and corruption. He’ll not forget the bodies of his family littering the floors. The younglings, Force, _the younglings_ …

He dreams of Anakin, of that sickly yellow gaze staring up at him, of those few moments where he seemed ready to cry out for Obi-Wan to help him, to pull him away from the lava river. He dreams of _those three words_ , and how they are seared on his heart, never to fade. _Oh, Anakin…_

He dreams of Padmé, staring up at him helplessly, hopelessly. Sometimes she just gazes at him solemnly, and then turns away. Such a simple movement is enough of a judgment.

He dreams all of this for nearly twenty years. It is perhaps a miracle that he does not go completely mad in that time. 

But that is not all that he dreams. Sometimes, he dreams of _her_. Those blue eyes, be they sharp with anger or soft with affection, pin him in a single glance, as they have always done.

When he dreams of Satine, Obi-Wan actually finds himself relaxing. Sometimes she sits beside him, staring out over the unending sand dunes of Tatooine. They do not speak, but she often reaches out and clasps his hand in her own, stroking her soft thumb over the dry skin of his palm. 

Other times he finds himself back in the throne room on Mandalore, when it was full of shadows and malice. Obi-Wan cringes, knowing what he will see, but instead with a wave of her hand, the shadows are banished by a burst of sunlight. “Not tonight, my dearest,” Satine murmurs. Again, she takes his hands in her own and leads him away. “There is enough darkness and pain to be had in the galaxy,” she says. “Let us just be happy, even if only for a moment.”

Sometimes the dreams are much more focused, to the point that they seem able to engage in full conversations. He blames himself for her death, she denies it. “It was not you who put that blade to use, Obi-Wan,” she tells him sternly. Then her expression softens. “You did well, not allowing Maul’s hatred consume you. I would not want to ever see such a thing, you devoured by darkness.”

There are times when she sinks into his arms, feeling as solid, as _real_ as any other being. Her gaze meets his, her fingers brushing his bearded cheek, and she chuckles. “Still hiding your handsome face.”

When she kisses him, sweet and full of _something_ he cannot put a name to, Obi-Wan has not the strength or the desire to resist her. Here, if only in the sanctity of his dreams, he is free to love her as part of him always longed to.

The last time he dreams of her, they again sit on a cliff overlooking Tatooine. Her appearance is as unchanged as ever, though Obi-Wan knows he cannot say the same. Life on Tatooine is not conducive to such things. 

“Change is coming,” Satine says, her eyes on something far in the distance. “Dawn approaches.”

“Dawn comes every day,” he points out.

She shakes her head. “Not like this one.” She turns to him and smiles at him. “You have never been one to sit idly by when others needed your help. I would hope you would not start now.” Before he can formulate a response, she leans over and kisses him. Obi-Wan’s drift shut and gives himself over the sensation. Twenty years of her presence and he never fails to be mesmerized by her.

When she pulls back and he opens his eyes again, the vision of her is fading. The last thing he sees, though, is Satine’s smile.

The last thing he hears is her whisper, “Soon, my darling. Soon.”

When Obi-Wan’s eyes open on the bright light of Tatooine’s dawn, he feels the tug of the Force, and knows that, indeed, change is coming.


End file.
